Daughter Of A Mockingjay
by FallenMockinjay
Summary: President Paylor has been killed by supporters of President Snow, who are taking Panem back and seeking vengeance.
1. Dungeons

From Dandelion (Katniss + Peeta's daughter) POV

I pushed the crimson liquid from above my eyelids, pressing my tatty, grimy sleeve to the wound. The ground spun around me, my vision blurred from being brutally slammed against the cell wall. I could only just make out the door being slammed and the small slit of light growing fainter and fainter. Thinner and thinner until it disappeared completely.

A small, dim bulb hung from the ceiling, flickering and fading as it swung back and forth with the ear splitting screams and stamps from upstairs. I shuddered, curled into a ball and pressed my eyes tightly shut.

"This can only be a dream. This can only be a dream" I muttered over and over, trying to convince myself. I wearily gave in to the pain and fell asleep.

I awoke after what must have been two hours. The bleeding had stopped but the blood had dried into my eyebrow, forehead and eyelids. My hair was grimy and greasy, turned from light brunette to black/green from the damp, muddy walls surrounding me. Water (or what I assumed was water) dripped from the ceiling, making the light fizz and flicker. The light itself only lit about a metre around it, making me squint to see. An over-sized shirt that looked black in the eery light and some flannel trousers ripped at the knee covered me loosely. I was completely caked in dirt, so much it completely covered the purple bruises all over my body, caused by the brutal peacekeepers throwing me around this room. They did it for no apparent reason. I guess its all just light sport to them.

They took me last night, the night President Paylor was murdered. Supporters of the old, cruel president Snow had risen up, taking the Capitol once more and turning it back to its original form. My mother told me all about the days before I was born. I remember her worried face, staring into mine, my father gripping tightly to her shoulders as though trying to protect her. We were hidden in the basement from the rebels when she told me, their thundering footsteps echoing above. She was rushing through the tale, her hushed tones incredibly urgent. Darius, my younger brother, was crouching beside me, holding onto my arm for dear life, all the while their boots sending cascades of dust from between the floorboards. They were searching all over for us, and for I bit I thought I was going to be safe, until one person pushed the rug hiding the trap door back gruffly, grunting with pleasure as he informed his boss. They smashed the lock and wrenched the door off its hinges, terror shot through my soul. Marching down the stairs they pulled out their guns, pointing them at us. My mother and father stood up, putting a shield between me and Darius and the guns. They just laughed at the attempts to protect us and exchanged brief thoughts on what to do with us. They grabbed my mother by the arms dragging her away though she kicked and screamed. Dad lunged at one of the men carrying her and knocked him down to the floor though three other men had already surrounded Dad by that time, dragging him away too. My mum continued to struggle so one of the men slowly drew an iron bar from their tool belt, bringing it down with force onto her head. Blood streaked the bar and streamed from her head. I let out a blood curdling scream as I watched the terrible scene unfurl though another peacekeeper quickly silenced me with a blow to the stomach. I carried on kicking and punching, my arms now randomly flailing through the air attempting to force pain onto everything they reached. I caught a peacekeeper square in the jaw causing him to loosen his grip. I tumbled out of him arms and looked around for my love ones, who had already gone. Standing there, shell shocked, I was practically letting the armed guard take me but before I could try to scramble away, to chase after my family, my head was met with a blow and it went black.

Thats how I got here, in this cell with peace keepers coming to take their anger out on me. The door was thrown open again and I cowered away from the peacekeepers boots. He kicked me away with such force I was slammed into the opposite wall, into the shadows. I could vaguely make out what was happening through the swollen slit of my black eye. Someone else was being thrown in.


	2. Descendant Of Snow

**Dandelions POV**

I squinted, unable to fully see the black silhouettes against the contrasting, over whelmingly bright lights of the corridor. I clamped my mouth shut to stop myself from screaming as I watched the peacekeepers bat come down over the new captives head, knocking him unconscious. His limp, still body was thrown across the room and slammed into a wall, narrowly missing me. I scampered out of the way as the peacekeeper came closer, examining the body. Its chest rose and fell with quaking breaths, life ebbing away. Satisfied with this result, the man turned and left, throwing a final glare into the shadows for my benefit. I squirmed under his gaze, even though I knew he could not see me and scampered over to the body as soon as the door closed.

Making sure I did not hurt him further, I examined the boy. His brown hair was still clean, the warm scent of the outside world still clinging to his scruffy clothes meaning he had only just been taken. I inhaled the smell, a glorious contrast to the stinking sewers that I inhabit at the moment. It took me back, reminding me of my home, the forests surrounding district twelve. The pine needles scattered along the forest floor, freshly chopped wood and damp moss were just a few of the familiar smell emitted from his shirt. Home.

His eyes flashed open, a sparkling brown that darted around the room, taking in every detail of everything. I leapt back in fright, hiding myself as I often do now, in the shadows.

"Hello?" He called out, his voice unbroken and confident. A few days in here and that would change.

**Juliette's POV**

I sank back onto my bed with a book in hand. I pulled the soft satin sheets around me and rested my head on the goose down pillow, attempting to focus on the edition of 'The Capitol: Destined to Rule' clutched between my fingers. This was my seventh attempt at getting past the first dull monotonous page of drivel about the Capitol, how they are the better people, they have all the right ideas and they should rule all. My tutor gave it to me, said I needed to educate myself properly if I was to eventually take my 'rightful place' as president of Panem and live up to my great grandfathers legacy.

Today the President Snow supporters invaded the Capitol, taking back the mansion. It is now my current abode, probably my permanent home. With this latest advancement my parents and tutor have taken it upon themselves to train me against my will, educate me in the ways of leading a country. They have forced me into this role of a leader against my will; so many people in the districts are baying for my blood. I can't take it. I never wanted to be Snow's great granddaughter.

Throwing the book across the room, tears of anger streaming down my face. I grab another. My sketchbook has been strewn across the chair since I arrived, off limits to me but I now grabbed it. I flicked through to find a rare free page and lifted my pencil. Before I knew it, an ocean had formed, violently rocking back and forth, knocking around a tiny rowing boat. It was helpless against the vast current; it protested and kicked up a fuss though, doing its best to survive the onslaught. Rain came down in sheets, battering the figure inside the boat. His red hair shone throughout though, his green eyes glinting. He was tan, muscular though his face told a story of desperation and mourning...


End file.
